


Shouldn't Even Be Surprised

by Kitari (TwoTonedEchoes)



Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: A little snuggling never hurt anyone, Comfort, F/M, Fluff, Gen, Mild Shippy Stuff, Post-Patch 5.0: Shadowbringers, Self-indulgent fluff, You can't have my emotional support Ascian
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-20
Updated: 2019-10-20
Packaged: 2020-12-24 12:08:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,167
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21099224
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TwoTonedEchoes/pseuds/Kitari
Summary: There is an Ascian in your bed.This would be a shocking enough discovery on its own, but it is made all the more so by your absolute knowledge that this particular Ascian is dead.You know. You killed him. The glowing hole in his chest is a pretty good indicator too.Despite this irrefutable fact, there he lays, appearing to snooze quite peacefully. Especially for a dead man.He did not even have the decency to remove his boots first. How very rude.What will you do?





	Shouldn't Even Be Surprised

Makara knew the moment the door clicked shut behind her that something was wrong. Burgundy ears flicked back as the fur of her tail flared out in alarm, her hand going instantly to the axe strapped to her back, her senses screaming wary readiness at the intruder. 

A moment of electric stillness fell as she watched him through the partition, noting no movement aside from the even rise and fall of his chest. Slowly, she released her hold on the axe handle, hand dropping once more to her side as her stance relaxed. 

There was no danger. At least not any immediate one. The possibility of a trap had naturally flitted through her mind, but she had dismissed it nigh as soon as it had occurred. Emet-Selch was not the sort. If he had craved a rematch, he’d have made it clear–likely through some grande and obnoxious declaration of intent, if their all-too-recent past encounter was any indication. 

Whatever had brought him crawling here, it was not to seek a fight. 

No longer overly concerned for the moment, Makara crossed the room, making no hurry in unstrapping her weapons belt and setting her axe in its accustomed place of honor beside the bed. Her armor followed, set carefully upon the manikin kept for the very purpose of holding it carefully in shape when not in use–rare as that was these days. 

She breathed a soft sigh of relief at the removal of the heavy weight of armor once all that remained were the black robes she wore beneath. The set was carefully and expertly crafted to allow maximum mobility and comfort–made as it was for a Warrior and adventurer who was given to wearing it for extended periods of time and through days-long journeys. Still yet, that did not mean it was not a relief to shed the steel from time to time. Rolling her shoulders, she set about working out all the kinks and soreness that tended to develop after a few hours in armor. With a final long stretch that had her tail curling, she finally turned her attention back to her bed invader.

Emet-Selch had not so much as moved an ilm. 

Makara sighed, padding with a soft click of claws on marble to the bedside proper. He looked just as she had last seen him, clad in the robes of his station… and with a gaping hole through the center of his abdomen where the Light had pierced him. Her brows knit in a frown as her thoughts turned unbidden to another man who had suffered just such a wound, tho that one had not been dealt by her hand. 

He had also not found his way back to her bed afterwards. Which was a pity: of course it would be this bastard who would come crawling out of the grave after. 

But there was naught to be done for it now. Gently, with a healer’s touch, she reached out to the Ascian, taking him by the shoulder to turn him onto his back. Gingerly, wary of the shimmering edges of the wound, she pulled the scraps of his robe back to better investigate the damages. 

Extraordinary, really. She could see clear through him. A brief moment’s prodding proved she could reach right through him as well, to touch the blankets beneath where he lay. It was not simply an illusion: he was missing what should have been the most vital bits of his body. In fact, she was not even certain how he was breathing, being as the vast majority of his lungs were gone. Perhaps it was just habitual motion, she thought. 

Damned immortals. Thrice damned Ascians. Shaking her head, she tutted as she set the robe back in place. The Light shimmered through the hole in him, glowing white hot, tho it did not seem capable of bringing harm to anything non-living. She was a capable healer, but even still there was naught she could do about that. Perhaps Ryne could manage something. Or perhaps they could simply keep him this way, and make a game out of who could throw the largest foreign object through him. 

She rather liked the second option at present. 

Grip a bit firmer than it had been as she turned and inspected him, she shook his shoulder. “Wake up, damn you. Wake up and shove over. If you’re going to invade my bed, the least you can do is properly share.” 

A half snore brought him to blinking wakefulness, and his golden eyes alighted on her thoroughly unamused green ones. “You took too long” he mumbled. “I was tiiiiiiired.”

Makara rolled her eyes as she stood once more. She wasn’t even surprised at this point. Perhaps it was that Ardbert’s presence had numbed her to uninvited men in her chambers, or perhaps it was simply that there was nothing about the Paragon that could surprise her any longer. Perhaps she was just numb to it all, after the battles they had been through together. 

And perhaps, just slightly, there was some hidden relief in finding that even with the grande arse that he was, she had not lost another companion after all. 

Back turned to him, she stripped her robes off, down to her underclothes. These were her chambers, and her bed, and like hell she was going to sleep in discomfort just because this nincompoop couldn’t manage to find his way to a proper sickbed. 

She gave him a shove as she pulled the covers back, and to his mild credit, he acquiesced, moving over to give her room. A breath of tired relief slipped from her as she relaxed against the mattress, far too many years spent adventuring with strange companions under her belt to feel self-conscious or awkward just because there was another body beside her. Still yet she stiffened when, after a few moments of stillness, she felt him move to drape an arm around her, pulling her close. 

Her eyes narrowed, glaring back at him and ready to evict him from her chambers after all were he to press against propriety, but when he made no further movements, she slowly relaxed once more. 

Of course. The fool wanted cuddles. She sighed once more, wondering how many of them this evening would wring from her as she leaned back against him. 

Idiot immortal. Spoiled brat.

There would be trouble to tend to from this. Questions to be asked and answered, and of course giant holes to be dealt with. He had caused quite the ruckus with his little tantrum, after all, and she was hardly of an intent to let him off scot-free for the trouble he had caused. But for now, just for tonight, perhaps it was enough to simply be, and let the lay the quiet knowledge that somehow, against all odds and logic, they had survived. 

There was an Ascian in her bed. And for the moment at least, she would let him stay.

**Author's Note:**

> This was just an open RP starter that I posted, and then decided heck. I want an Ascian in MY bed too. So my WoLD got a go at him.


End file.
